


The fragments of the sun

by Narmiraen



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Chapter Summary, Angst, Fluff, Heartbreak, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Not Beta Read, Ult Swap, maybe...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-11-20 08:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narmiraen/pseuds/Narmiraen
Summary: Drabble and oneshot collection, featuring Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada.Sometimes my muse kicks me in the face with an idea and Ineedto write it. You can find all these ideas here.





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 recommended music: [Skylar Grey - Coming Home. Pt. II.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k84QxVJd0tI)

Hanzo pulled the dark blue fabric a little tighter around his shoulders in vain hope. Even in Gibraltar, the autumn nights were chilly, especially at just after 3 AM. With a grumbled curse, he pulled the hood of the large, black sweater over his head, maybe that would help… Just almost half an hour, he was a fuckin’ trained assassin, he should endure this without problem. 

Sadly, the fact of his own badassery didn’t help with the last three weeks’ exhaustion, worry and bad sleep. To be honest, it was the longest three weeks of his life. Jesse was on a long solo mission in New Mexico, investigating the remnants of his old gang and a nearby Talon hideout. Hanzo only spoke with him twice during the mission, though Jesse was on strict radio silence. Both occasions left the archer with aching heart and made the idea - steal the dropship and get to New Mexico, get to Jesse - more and more appealing. 

The gunslinger called him first when he found his mother’s grave in Santa Fe. It took minutes for Hanzo to calm Jesse down, breaking his whispered mantra of “she’s gone, she’s gone” and had him explain it through stifled sobs and hiccups. Originally he only wanted to check on his grandparents grave, but he found shiny, new letters on the old marble… It was almost a year ago, while he was hiding in the shadows. It broke Hanzo’s heart, remembering his own mother’s death and the pain of it, feeling utterly alone. And he couldn’t even hug Jesse…

The second call almost a week later, Jesse’s voice utterly exhausted over the line, confessing he couldn’t sleep normally - even in the gunslinger’s standards - since the last time they spoke, he just wanted to hear Hanzo’s voice. Hanzo sung him to sleep, softly singing age-old lullabies he remembered hearing from his mother.

After that he almost got on the plane and booked it, but Genji’s Hanzo-instinct stil worked and he intercepted the archer on his way to the armory. It only took a relatively short shouting match in Japanese for Genji to convince Hanzo, not to barge into Jesse’s mission. If he needs help, he will ask, Genji reasoned, now he needed Hanzo to be here for him on the other side on the line. 

 

Jesse sent a short message 12 hours ago, just before boarding his plane in Las Vegas, finally, he was coming home.

Hanzo sighed tiredly fidgeting on his perch on the hangar roof, facing the road leading up to the Watchpoint. He started contemplating calling Jesse, when a pair of headlights broke the dark, just turning around the corner. Without hesitation, the archer stood up and with that momentum, he leaped from the roof.   
His prosthetics took the height easily, landing almost silently as the black Jeep pulled up to the hangar door. Hanzo waited until Jesse shut the engine down, leaving them in the scant moonlight. The car door opened and closed with a muffled slam, the cowboy’s spurs jingling softly as he walked to Hanzo, hat pulled into his face, worn duffle in his right hand. 

Hanzo didn’t hesitate closing the distance between them. He pulled the dark blue serape around them as he wound his arms around Jesse. 

“Welcome home” he murmured into the dusty, sweetly familiar red serape.

A pair of chapped lips left a small kiss on his temple and the beloved voice answered:  
“I’m home.”


	2. Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's more like an idea than a story...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 recommended music: [Kaoru Wada - Affections Touching Across Time II](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5bZSfbSPl8)

McCree is still on the run, visits Hanamura and as he tries to melt into the tourist hordes, he finds himself at the gates of the old Hanamura Castle. Trying to escape for a little break, he sneaks in. As he explores the ancient and dusty building he finds a small shrine, an age-old stone dragon sleeping its eternal dream under a gnarly cherry tree.

The cowboy sits down next to the statue to rest a little, laying his head against the cool, weather worn scales. He just wants to sit a little while, hiding from his own, lonely life, from feeling so lonely even in a crowd. Thinking about having someone in his life, some to trust, someone who could watch his back… He falls asleep with that thought.

It’s almost dark when he wakes, his right side numb but oddly warm. As he turns his face, the weak dusk sunlight catches on dark blue scales… He scrambles away from it and looks in disbelief at the statue. Well, not a statue anymore. A _dragon_ looks back at him with glowing golden eyes, its body a huge coil of dark blue scales and salt-and-pepper fur. The creature slowly, - as if not to spook the gunslinger - oh slowly uncoils itself and lowers its head to look Jesse in the eye.

The cowboy seems frozen, his brain stuttered to a halt, trying to puzzle together what had happened while he slept. But as the dragon moves closer he gulps a little. He always imagined his death by getting shot, not devoured by mythical beasts, but well…

The dragon takes a deep breath and with that it retreats a little only to move its body from around an ancient looking chest? Jesse just opens his mouth to blurt something out about a meager hoard, when there is a loud hiss and he and the creature is suddenly enveloped in a warm cloud of vapour.

McCree tries to wave the cloud away, almost sure the beast will use it to kill him while he is distracted, but as its dissipates, no dragon to find, just a man. A Japanese man, dressed in traditional looking clothes, strange looking boots. His hair is black, silver weaved into at his temples, a pair of dark blue, almost black horns on his forehead. A pair of solemn golden eyes look back at Jesse and there is something in them, that makes the cowboy’s heart speed up.

“Well met, Jesse McCree.” the man says, his voice deep and soft. He slowly steps closer to Jesse and crouches next to him so close, McCree swears he can feel his body heat. “I swear to the honor of my ancestors, you will never be alone in this world from now on. And if they grant me their favour, not even in the next one.” with that the man takes Jesse flesh and bone right hand, lifts it to his face and presses a feather soft kiss into his palm, those golden eyes never leaving the cowboy brown ones.

Something clenches in Jesse’s chest, the panic dissipating in his mind. Those words are like cool balm to his soul and heart, making him smile back at the man. “Thank you…”


	3. drawn in to your flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is not a nice story...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 recommended music: [Apocalyptica - Not Strong Enough (feat. Doug Robb)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V3L15Hpxp1E)

Jesse watched him from the farthest, darkest corner of the mess hall as he talked to Morrison and Winston. Contemplating frown of that regal face, strong fingers smoothed through the neat beard with absentminded touches, listening whatever the scientist talked about. 

 

The gunslinger wrapped his serape a little tighter around his shoulder and pulled the hat a little lower, trying make himself even smaller. Only in these moments he could see Hanzo other than a condescending, beautiful bastard. Only when he spoke to the others… To him, Jesse was only a warm body, not much better than a whore with a gun. 

 

Hanzo was in love with someone on base, but as he told Jesse, the person wasn’t interested in him and sadly, the archer’s feelings for them weren’t just a few flames. This conversation happened a few months before, when he found Hanzo on the roof, drinking his feelings away. 

 

And because Jesse was an idiot with a big crush on said archer, after a few chugs of his own whiskey, he tried to comfort Hanzo, but he fucked it up. Royally. He simply opened his big mouth and started blabbing about the mystery person being a fuckin’ idiot not wanting Hanzo. Who could not want the archer? - he warbled into Hanzo’s ear. Who could not want him with a body and a face like his? Topped with razor sharp mind and tongue? Who was that blind fool?

 

At this point Hanzo shoved him away and without a word he left the roof. Jesse blinked after him and with a shrug he continued emptying the bottle. 

____

 

The next morning found him still on the roof, whiskey bottle empty near him, clothes damp with early morning dew. With a groan - he was way too old to sleep on the cold concrete just like this - he got up and was determined to find some painkiller for his headache, after a hot shower. 

 

Just a few meters from his door, someone grabbed his right elbow and dragged him into one of the empty rooms. Jesse tried to fight his assailant, but as he caught a glimpse of gold and storm blue from under his hat, he stopped fighting. Thank God, it was just Hanzo and since he was certain, if the archer wanted to kill him he would do it from the distance with one of his arrows, Jesse was almost sure, he was safe. 

 

As the door closed behind them with a soft hiss, he just opened his mouth to ask what’s wrong, when Hanzo’s strong hands grabbed the serape and pushed him against the wall, hat falling onto the dusty floor. Suddenly Jesse wasn’t so doubtless about the archer’s murder intent, but it was chased away as Hanzo’s fingers grabbed his nape to pull him into a rough kiss and his other hand slid onto Jesse’s crotch.

 

The gunslinger couldn’t move for a few moments, his brain desperately trying to catch up with the events. Suddenly he shoved the archer away, his memories pushing Hanzo’s words from last night into the now. 

 

“What in the everlovin’ Hell you do, Shimada?” Jesse asked as he lifted his right hand to wipe his mouth.

 

“Isn’t it you wanted, McCree? Isn’t what you talked about? Wanting my body, cursing the one who didn’t? Don’t you want me, Jesse?” the archer voice was deep and cold, as his eyes in the half-light of the room, the shadows making his face more stern. “Don’t you scorn the one I love? Don’t you want to be the  _ one _ ?”

 

Jesse swore that his heartbeat stopped for a few everlasting moments, trying to remember what the fuck he said to the archer. He vaguely remembered babbling about Hanzo’s look and sharp mind, but nothing too incriminating. Maybe just forgot it? Shit. 

 

“It’s not like that! I swear, it’s not what you think. I was just tryin’ to lift yer spirit. Don’t take everything so serious Shimada.” he forced a smile onto his face, the pounding headache and the archer’s gaze not helping. 

 

“Do you think I’m a fool, McCree? Don’t I have eyes?” Hanzo stepped closer, almost chest to chest with Jesse. “Do you think I don’t know when you watch me? I feel the weight of your gaze on my skin. Sometimes I can almost taste the lust and the longing from the other side of the training room. Don’t you dare to deny it.” with that, he grabbed Jesse again and kissed him, the force of it breaking the gunslinger’s already chapped lips, bringing the taste of blood with it. 

 

After a few breathless, heated minutes Hango released him, leaving the taller man almost swaying against the wall. The archer stepped back, smoothing his clothes into place, only his lips revealing what happened.

 

“Since you are so enthusiastic, you will be enough to scratch my itch.” Hanzo stepped to the door, hand hovering over the biometric lock. “You got an hour to make himself into human again or I cancel this arrangement. I will come to your room. Oh, and this is between us, am I clear?” he lifted his tattooed left arm and smoothed his hand over Jesse’s neck, pulling him just a little bit closer. “You better remember McCree, you are just a substitute.” 

 

With that Hanzo left the room, door closing behind him with a hiss.

 

____

 

Jesse should have stopped this whole clusterfuck, but he was a colossal idiot with a wounded pride. Who was Hanzo to dictate like that? What substitute? To scratch an itch? He will show to that asshole… 

 

But somewhere between that empty room and his own room, he decided to seduce Hanzo, make him forget the one he claimed to love. Jesse was a brilliant strategist, this was a fool-proof plan.  
Sadly, made by a naive fool, who had the interpersonal skills of an emotionally stunted con artist. What could go wrong? 

 

The first mistake was to let Hanzo into his room and letting him having his way with Jesse’s body. The cowboy loved it, loved the brain melting pleasure, bordering on pain, loved the strong hands on his skin, loved having the archer in his body. He only missed a little bit intimacy, a few kisses after. But Hanzo made clear, he only tolerated those during sex, not after it.

 

He could have lived with this, but his stupid heart wasn’t accepting the walls and restrictions the archer made. He still hoped, one day, maybe a few months later, Hanzo would seek him out in public, maybe he would sit next to him during eating or briefing. He just hoped to talk about other than mission parameters with the man, outside his room. 

 

He was a fool.

 

____

 

It took almost 10 months to admit defeat. Jesse watched Hanzo from the farthest, darkest corner of the mess hall as he talked to Morrison and Winston. He  _ never _ just talked to Jesse. It was only out of necessity. Behind closed doors, he snapped commands, demanded touches and positions. But nothing else. It got worse as time went by, Hanzo getting colder and more bitter, in response Jesse get more silent, his overall mood dimmed. The worst came just a month earlier, finding out the identity of Reaper. And wasn’t just a kick in the teeth?

 

Morrison and almost all of the old Overwatch members agreed to bring in Reyes, and listening Jack talking about their old life, of his grief as his relationship with Gabriel deteriorated in front of his eyes and the pain of losing the man after the HQ explosion… Hanzo’s face during that night… It explained a lot.

 

Jesse slowly got up, his eyes lingering on the silver streaked hair, remembering how it looked spread out on  _ his _ pillow, how it felt between his fingers. The stern face now smiling at Morrison and Winston, a small stab of pain beneath his ribs, remembering, it  _ never _ smiled at him.

 

He left the mess hall, carefully avoiding the busier corridors. Arriving back to his room, he let himself in and quickly walked to the personal terminal, sending an old Blackwatch code to Athena. That should give him a little time.

 

The next few hours were torture, waiting the Watchpoint to go sleep - as much they slept anyway. There were knocks on his door halfway into the night, but he didn’t answered and Athena only said he was on base, but couldn’t be pinpointed. The archer left his door with a huff and was the last one to ask about Jesse. No one missed him. Good, it made the whole thing easier.

 

A few minutes before 3 AM, he grabbed the packed duffle from under the bed, sent two another old codes to Athena - one to grant access to the garage without interruption and one to destroy his personal file 30 minutes after he left the base, making Athena forgetting him completely. With that, he opened his window and with a last glance to the door and a slowly dying heart, he scaled the wall, leaving Overwatch - Hanzo - behind. 

 

As he jumped onto one of the bikes, he hoped, his resolve would last him until he reached the States. As soon as he was back into the desert, nothing would matter anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	4. Quetzalcoatl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, Jesse has a dragon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 recommended music:  
> \- [ Two Steps From Hell - Countries Burning](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DevwN3sPT0k)  
> or  
> \- [Two Steps From Hell - Special Unit](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CObP5RN6-_c)

Jesse wipes the tacky blood from his eyes, throwing a worried glance toward the unconscious archer on his left, hidden by the ruined wall. It started as a routine Talon-wipeout but it took only a few minutes and it gone ass over teakettle. Now, he’s cornered behind a half-crumbled building with an unconscious Hanzo, the earpiece in his ear is only static and he can barely hear the others on the other side of the compound. Jesse hates jungles.

 

Oh so slowly, he pokes his head behind from the wall, but his reflexes are only thing that save him from a headshot. As the bullets thud dully into the thick bricks, making him grimace at the dust, he curses the goons that surrounds him and the archer, all ten of them. He can be a miracle worker, Deadeye is a really good technique, but not with a low-grade concussion.

 

He counts bullets as the goons not so subtly approach their hideout and looks sadly at the resulting 8 bullets. Damnit.

 

He needs to perform a Deadeye, no other way, but if he’s lucky he can leave it to the end. Concussion with that move will make him feel like he was smacked in the head with Winston’s armor. No fun, also not an ideal to fight with.

 

Jesse just takes a deep breath to lunge out behind from the wall, when a strong hand grabs his left knee, scaring the bejeezus out of him. Thankfully, Hanzo is still too unfocused to catch the high-pitched yell (it was a yell, seriously), as he tries to drag Jesse closer to him.

 

“Hey, hey! Do not move Hanzo, you are injured.” Jesse tries to pry the archer’s hands out of his serape and get him back down on the ground.

 

“We are overn- no, outnumbered. You need help.” Hanzo grits out, teeth clenching, dark eyes clearing a little. He got the most of the concussion grenade.

 

“Yes, but how on-”

 

“They told me. The dragons. They will help you if… if you let them, let us.” Hanzo’s voice gets deeper on the last two words and the familiar electric blue sparks dance over his tattooed arm.

 

“I don’t even know how to shoot with bow an arrow, darling.” Jesse feels utterly lost for a moment. There is no way they’ll survive this.

 

“No need for arrow, jus- just let me hold your arm, when you shoot.” the archer murmurs as he releases Jesse’s serape to rub his temple. His headache must a bitch.

 

“Okay, let me throw a flashbang and then I’ll stood up and shoot while you do your thing. Am I right?” he asks for confirmation.

 

“Yes. Do it.” the archer’s voice is so deep again, the sparks are back.

 

Jesse stops wasting time, pulls the last flashbang from his belt and with a bloodthirsty grin he throws it into the goons, whom started stalling and only keeping them cornered. Probably waiting for Reaper…

 

As the grenade goes off, Jesse grabs Hanzo with his left arm and drags him up as he straightens, Peacekeeper in his right, the archer’s left hand wrapped around his flesh and bone wrist.

 

“Say it.” that inhuman voice rumbles next to him and for a moment he only sees red. There is heat and dust and fire in his veins, his right arm trembles with all the power that is pouring into his body.

 

“It’s high noon.” and there is a bang.

 

The screeching roar is deafening as the red - like blood, like the rocks in the desert at dusk - light runs from his gun and serpentines its way through ruins and bodies. The cowboy would swear on his life he sees scales, feathers, wings and spikes. At the end there are only the ruins stay as the light dissipates with an almost pleased sounding rumble.

 

Jesse just stares blindly at the battleground. A few bloody bits, weapons and stray limbs left of the ten men. But…

 

“It was red.” he whispers. Why? “Hanzo?” he glances at the archer who is just barely conscious again, the only thing keeping him upright is Jesse’s left arm. Shit.

 

He carefully lowers the man to the ground. Hanzo’s eyes open a little and the always stern face morphs into a small, delighted grin - high as a kite from pain and concussion grin, but nonetheless a rare sight.

 

“I knew.” he mumbles, then adds something in Japanese that Jesse has no hope understanding and promptly blacks out. The gunslinger sits down next to Hanzo and heaves a tired sigh. As he lifts his right hand to his head to poke at the wound on his temple, something catches his eyes. Jesse looks at his arm in shocked disbelief.

 

There is a tattoo, in blood red, hunter green and gold, with delicate black outlines. His mind summons an image so similar, a red-green-gold beast on the age-old page of the book his mother was so proud of. Always reading from it to Jesse when he couldn’t sleep. Teaching and reminding him of the heritage of his mother’s people. Its name is Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent, he remembers now.

 

Something rumbles in the back of his consciousness and it makes a part of the cowboy’s heart jump a little in joy and shock. He glances at Hanzo, as he carefully smooths his prosthetic hand down the tattoo - it’s really not a tattoo. “You knew, huh?” he murmurs.

  
He will have _words_ with the archer as soon, as Angela released both of them from hers and the medbay’s clutches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [THIS](http://i.imgur.com/6q7ni3H.jpg) is how Jesse's dragon looks like (just in red).  
>  And [THIS](http://i.imgur.com/TFeqwqH.jpg) is similar to his "tattoo" that wraps around his arm, only with wings.


	5. So I can die easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "One long eternal sleep, in where there was no injury, slowing reflexes, broken heart and crushing loneliness."
> 
> WARNING: possible(!) major character death, blood, injury!
> 
> It can be read as a sequel to "Ch. 3. - drawn in to your flame".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 recommended music: [Rag'n'Bone Man - Die Easy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EH3Rd-1OZ0k)
> 
>  
> 
> I can absolutely imagine Jesse singing this to himself, when he's alone in the desert... Also, I'm sorry and in my defense, it made sense in my head.

Jesse slowly staggered toward the rock formation, movements barely coordinated, his breath short. His right hand tried to put pressure on his abdomen, but he already bled through his leather glove. The pain of getting shot in the gut made him dizzy.

 

With a groan, he practically collapsed to the ground in the shade of the rock, snorting at the fine red dust he stirred up. His back to the sunbaked crag, he slowly patted around his belt in vain hope to find a biotic field, but sadly it didn’t materialised out of nowhere. He used the last one just days before, when he got shot in the leg...

 

The cowboy carefully shifted, trying to sit a little more comfortably. He knew this was it. This was the end for him. Dying alone in the desert was something he always envisioned for himself. Of course, he had brief dreams about a normal life, maybe after he retired from Blackwatch... But it was short-lived fantasy.

 

The vertigo got worse as he bled internally, the pain was a constant heated blade in his stomach. The only comforting thought was he will lose consciousness soon and it would be like going to sleep. One long eternal sleep, in where there was no injury, slowing reflexes, broken heart and crushing loneliness.

 

God, that sounded so, so good…

 

With a heavy sigh Jesse closed his heavy eyes, right hand slid off the wound on his torso and gave into the siren song of sleep. He was unaware of the approaching heavy footsteps and missed the deep, raspy voice saying:

“It will be okay mijo, just sleep now.”


	6. a comforting pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Sometimes I just don’t want to exist.” the archer whispered, his voice almost lost in the night._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: mentions of the fight between Genji and Hanzo, mentions of blood, possibility of self-harm!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 recommended music: [シド - 依存の庭 (SID - Izon no Niwa)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iFMnSYNIL_4)
> 
> This song is one of the ultimate angst songs for me. I swear the next one won't be this dark!  
> (The title probably doesn't make any sense, but it's from the song and I'm supremely bad at giving titles.)

Jesse woke with a start, his right hand reaching for Peacekeeper. For a few heartbeats he didn’t know what woke him, but as he turned his head, the other side of the bed was empty. It was never a good sign when he woke up alone in the middle of the night.

 

At the beginning of their relationship Jesse slept lightly, born from years on the run, but it only took a few months until his subconscious judged Hanzo safe. Nowadays he only woke when one of them had a nightmare, otherwise he wasn’t disturbed by his lover’s nightly wanderings.

Sadly those late night trips meant Hanzo was restless, had something heavy on his mind.

 

Jesse threw the blanket off to get out of the bed, when something caught his eyes. Hanzo’s prosthetics against the chair, where he left them last night. The gunslinger got up with a bitten off curse, grabbing the first bathrobe he found - cool, dark blue silk, almost indecently short on him.  

 

He needed to find Hanzo, like right now. The sight on the abandoned legs always made Jesse’s skin crawl, even he only saw this twice in his life, yet that was twice two many. With a nervous knot in his stomach he left their room, turning left on the corridor, making his way to the stairs. He knew Hanzo was on the roof.

\----

The gunslinger was right, he found the elder Shimada perched on the edge of the roof, wrapped in Jesse’s robe. The skull from the Blackwatch logo facing the door, eerie beacon of white illuminated by the waning moonlight.

 

Hanzo’s shoulders were hunched, his hair unbound, hands gripping the cold concrete under himself. Jesse let out a loud sigh, made his presence known, before he got his nose busted by a freaked out ninja, that was not an experience he wanted to repeat…

 

Jesse walked over to his lover and plopped down next to him. Not caring about the chilly night and the flimsy silk he wore, the cowboy just leaned into Hanzo, not saying a word. He knew very well, the man will talk when he was ready.

 

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, when finally Hanzo moved, turning to Jesse, those strong arms wound around his neck and the beloved face hid between his neck and shoulder. Jesse pulled the man closer, hugging him to his chest, his right hand smoothing slowly up and down the broad back.

 

“Sometimes I just don’t want to exist.” the archer whispered, his voice almost lost in the night. “I can see him bleeding on the floor, his breath rattling in his torn up chest, the face I loved all my life is almost unrecognizable. That ridiculous green hair is almost black with blood. His own blood... “ then there was silence, as Jesse’s heart broke into pieces with every acid-hot tears that fell onto his skin.

 

He had no words, he never had words in these moments. Empty platitudes only made it worse, in his own opinion. The only thing he could do was to hold on, and let Hanzo cry himself into sleep.

____  


He carefully got up from the roof, balancing the sleep-slack body in his arms, as he slowly made back to their room. It spoke volumes of trust, that Hanzo never woke up from his exhausted slumber, as Jesse laid him down, carefully cleaned and bandaged his right stump - probably scraped up on the roof - and finally got them under the blanket. The cowboy pulled his lover closer, burying his face into the ink black hair and fall back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, Hanzo leaving his prosthetics is a form of self-punishment, a form of self-harm. Please, if you ever need to talk to someone, hit me with a comment. Be safe!


	7. Gone Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "With that, he turns and walks away, leaving the old, crumbling roof, feeling nothing but _cold_ , down to his bones."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A companion piece to 'drawn in to your flame' and 'So I can die easy'. It can be read as a sequel to Ch. 5. - So I can die easy.
> 
> Recommended music: [Five Finger Death Punch - Cold](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PjqJwp5Z38)
> 
> I promised a lighter, happier next chapter, but Jesse kicked my plans out of my head. Have some more angst!
> 
> (Also, I realized I'm way too old and ace to write smut... -__-''')

Ruby red eyes watch the man from the shadows, on the crumbling rooftop. He tracks the elegant, deadly moves of those strong limbs, muscles dancing under smooth, tattooed skin as the man runs around the makeshift training track, firing arrow after arrow into painted targets.

 

He pulls the black fabric tighter around his own shoulders, trying to chase off the chill, feeling it biting at his skin despite being in the the height of the brazilian summer. But nowadays, he always feels cold. Lost his warmth along his life in the desert, all alone. Gabriel, dear, old Gabriel saved him again, against his wish. 

 

He got another chance to live, even if living is not really applies to him these days. His old commander gave him his own blood, kickstarting his heart… and gave the ability - curse, depends on who you ask - to dissipate into smoke and reform his body into solid.

 

Jesse also got a little mental breakdown, but that was inevitable and he see that coming from a long time. The whole mess with the Recall and his death just sped up the process. Nowadays, he just  _ exists _ , left Gabriel to fight with his own ghosts. The strongest things he feels is hunger, because of course super-soldiers got super metabolism and  _ cold _ .

 

Even Gabriel couldn’t explain the thing to him, the only solid theory he has is he lost too much blood, before the commander found him and the shock of it stuck in his brain.

  
  


He watches the man down below, wondering what the hell Overwatch is doing in Santa Fe, when the archer stops his training, bow and arrow still ready in his hands, and looks around his concentration broken by something. Jesse carefully sinks a little deeper into the shadows around him, not wanting to alert the whole safe house to his presence. They believe him dead, and he prefers them that way. 

 

The elder Shimada stays still for a few moments, before he beats a hasty retreat into the old house, leaving Jesse alone. Something stirs in his head at the sight, a small voice whispering  _ like he always did _ , but McCree just hums under his breath at it. Nothing, but the truth.

  
With that, he turns and walks away, leaving the old, crumbling roof, feeling nothing but  _ cold _ , down to his bones.


	8. it wasn't supposed to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "By the way good job, you broke not only his heart, but a part of his soul too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A companion piece to 'drawn in to your flame', 'So I can die easy' and 'Gone Cold'. It can be read between 'So I can die easy' and 'Gone Cold' or as a sequel to the last one.
> 
> Recommended music: [Amber Run - I Found](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbSZhGONRBg)
> 
>  
> 
> I swear, I started writing a fluffy one! But somehow misclicked in my music player, the song started and I was doomed, because of Hanzo. I love that guy, but I can write angst with him so well... Gabe hijacked the middle of this chapter. Beware of the _rant_.
> 
> Sorry for the angst. Again.

Dark eyes tracked the raindrops on the dirty window. Hanzo pulled the old, faded fabric tight around his shoulder, but it did nothing against the damp chill of the warehouse. No training or proper combat gear could help with this. 

 

It was his own making, he couldn’t blame anyone. No elders or clan members made him into this sad excuse of a human being. Hanzo carefully shifted on his perch, way above the other agents, trying not to draw their attention. Nowadays, it was better for everyone when he stayed out of sight or at least he minded his own business outside of missions.

 

His gaze left the windows and he turned his head down below. Around the small light source sat the other five operatives: Doctor Ziegler, the old Bastion unit, Reinhardt, Morrison and  _ Reyes  _ \- of all people on Earth… He wasn’t welcome there, especially around Reyes and the doctor. 

 

 

It was fine for a while. McCree disappeared one night and never returned. Hanzo was okay with that, albeit missed the fool a little, the nights were cold sometimes at the Watchpoint. But otherwise it was no big deal. They had enough firepower between the operatives, the man wasn’t an irreplaceable soldier or medic. He wielded a gun and threw some flashbangs around… Hindsight, as they say.

 

For months, the barely existing Overwatch didn't spare resources - being people or funds - to find the gunslinger, but they only found dead gang members and empty bullet shells.

 

Four months after the last information, they found Reyes. Who was inexplicably angry, especially with Hanzo, almost killing him on that day. After a few uncomfortable days in the infirmary, Hanzo walked into the common room on Gibraltar and on instinct he almost turned back. The dragons under his skin whispered about danger and anger around him.

 

The people in the room looked at him with disbelief, fury, sadness and pity. For a few moments he thought the concussion was more serious that the doctor estimated but then said doctor got up from her seat and walked to Hanzo. Her blue eyes were cold. Hanzo didn’t seen them this cold on the day he first arrived here and was introduced to Angela, who was the one to save Genji’s life. The deep hatred and pain almost gave him a flashback to that fateful day in Hanamura… The doctor took a breath to speak, but only shook her head as if Hanzo didn’t deserve the energy to speak at. She left the room.

 

After her the others got up and left, only three stayed around the long table. Genji, Winston and Reyes. 

 

“Sit down, Hanzo.” Genji nodded to the far side of the table. 

 

The archer went without a word. 

 

“I don’t know how to explain.” Winston started, but Reyes lifted his gauntleted hand, silencing the scientist.

 

“Let me explain then.” the dark skinned, scarred face morphed into a sinister grin. “I have two bad news. One: McCree is found, alive and whole. Two: this is your first and only warning. Hurt one more Overwatch member physically or emotionally, intentional or not and will  _ end _ you. Slowly and painfully, with a song in my heart and smile on my face. Are we clear?” the man growled.

 

Hanzo just sat stock still for a few heartbeat. They found the man? And didn’t tell him? And what’s with the threats? He wasn’t the stupid one to run away, wasting others time and money. He just opened his mouth to protest, when  _ Genji _ cut him off.

 

“Please, do not speak right now, Hanzo.”

 

“Oh, let him talk, maybe he’ll give me an opportunity to finish what I started. Maybe that will be a nice payback. Right cabrón? Maybe they should have left you bleed out alone, dying slowly. You know, that’s how I found Jesse in the desert. His heart only beat for a few minutes, before he  _ died _ in my arms, shot in the gut, his body cold from blood loss. He wasn’t fully lucid and later didn’t remember begging, to me to leave him to die, to let him  _ sleep _ . I knew a lot of people, but he was the strongest one, full of life and fire. When I pulled him out of that gang of his, he fought me tooth and nail, while the other bastards ran or died cowering. Even with the history between him and me, it brought back something in me, seeing him so broken and hurting - the whole dying business aside - that I was the one who saved him. He is alive. Well, as alive as I am. But the kid got lucky and got the better end of the deal, he looks perfectly human.” Reyes mouth split a little wider, his teeth turning into sharp points and the carefully hidden, bloodred eyes blinked at the archer. “And while I understand he’s a consenting adult, even if a stupid one, you used him in a bad way. Yes, he told me about you and your  _ deal _ . Let me tell you, even in Blackwatch we never had an emotionally sadistic asshole like you. By the way good job, you broke not only his heart, but a part of his soul too. So,” with that Reyes stood up and leaned forward, the metal claws clicking softly on the table. “watch yourself cabrón, because I’ll be watching you.” then the man turned and left them, Hanzo trying to find words. 

 

“I know you Hanzo and while it’s so hard to believe Gabriel’s words, I know he isn’t lying. You always were so vengeful. I won’t blame you if you want to leave after this even if we’re still so few in numbers.” Genji got up, picking up his faceplate and clicking it into place. “Oh, and please do not attend the morning meditations from now on.” the ninja left, heavy silence is his wake.

 

Winston cleared his throat and awkwardly pushed up his glasses. 

“As your brother said, while it’s understandable if you want to leave and judging the others reactions to Comm-, I mean Reyes news about Jesse, it’s perfectly justified, we still would welcome you on missions.” he stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Otherwise, I recommend you to avoid the other agents, especially doctor Ziegler, Miss Song and Bastion.” There was some disbelief on his face under the shock, because Winston smiled a little, even if it wasn’t that friendly. “Jesse understands binary, between me and Torbjörn, he was the only who could talk  _ with _ Bastion.” The gorilla got up from his tyre seat at the head of the table and lumbered out of the room, leaving the archer alone.

  
  


Hanzo spent the last few months alone, in a base full of people. It gave him ample opportunity to think and the results were… well, he felt better after ‘killing’ Genji. 

Reyes was right, he used McCree, in a way that wasn’t worthy to a human being. If he was honest with himself - which he wasn’t for a long time - he missed the cowboy. He was an idiot, believing his feelings for Morrison being love. It was a crush with lust and nothing else. 

 

He found the old, faded serape in a unused storage room and spirited it away. After a thorough washing and some stitching, he hid it in his always packed duffle bag, pulling it out when he felt particularly lonely and carried it around on missions. 

 

With that old piece of fabric, he found his own feelings. He wasn’t sure he felt love for the cowboy. It was more like longing for someone who gave him a chance to find something. Companionship and pleasure, if nothing else. But he blew this, quite spectacularly. The man disappeared, leaving his friends behind because of Hanzo. Plus the things Reyes talked about… It was no surprise no one tolerated the archer’s company outside missions. Not even his own brother.

  
  


Hanzo pulled the old, faded, red serape around his shoulders tight, warding off the night’s chill, turning back to watch the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, does anyone listens to the music I link or should I just leave it off?


	9. Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hanzo couldn’t resist the siren call, oh so carefully drew a line down Jesse’s spine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [Kunihiko Ryo - Yasou getsuka (夜想月雫)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qjfv-svxcy4)
> 
> Hah! FINALLY!!! Have some fluff!! Sadly, it's short, but it's not angst?

Hanzo opened his eyes wish a small sigh. The first things his senses registered were the warm weight over his stomach and the faint sunlight illuminating the room. He turned his head to the right, the sight brought a small smile to the ever-stern face.

 

His lover’s hair was a rats nest, the wide mouth halfway open, drool staining the man’s pillow. Who would believe the sight, this man being so dangerous and deadly, he earned the respect of the Shimada family’s guardian spirits. Despite his turbulent past he remained still so honest and honorable, so  _ good _ , he did the impossible and along the dragons, he caught Hanzo’s heart.  
The archer slowly and carefully turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. 

 

The light blanket only covered them to their waists, leaving the cowboy’s strong back bare, the gold-brown skin begging for a touch. Hanzo couldn’t resist the siren call, oh so carefully drew a line down Jesse’s spine. His lover didn’t stir and the archer continued his exploring. First, he found the faded, white starburst scar next to the right scapula, then he slid his fingers over the still a little red lashes, that crossed the man’s back. Even almost 20 years later, they were raised and not fading. 

 

He leaned forward, dropping a small kiss on the nearest scar, then lifted his head and looked at Jesse. The soft, brown eyes glittered at him in the dim morning light, that wide mouth offering a sleepy smile. Hanzo smiled back at him, being aware how utterly besotted he looked right now.

 

The gunslinger turned onto his side, wrapped his sleep warm arm around Hanzo’s waist and pulled him closer. Hanzo let himself dragged down to his own pillow, burrowing closer to his lover and with a sigh, he closed his eyes. They had plenty time, the only important thing in the world just held him close, wrapped in soft, scarred, sun kissed skin.


	10. Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Like you were made for me. Made for my pleasure. Right, darlin’?”"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [Nichole Alden - In your hands](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i55X9_wcDYs)
> 
> Remember me grumbling about being too ace to write smut? I started one, gave it up. But I hate unfinished stuffs, so got angry and finished it in one lunchbreak (my coworker sitting on the other side of the table...).   
> Now, have some smut! And let's just forget it this happened... -__-'

That sinfully hot mouth slowly slid down on his neck, the small kisses and nips made his face redder and redder. Hanzo took a shuddering breath to complain about the way too slow pace, when the lips disappeared from his neck. He just opened his eyes to glare at his lover, when they were back on his chest, followed by that wicked tongue…

 

The moans came involuntarily, the feeling of Jesse’s pierced tongue on his sensitive nipples always made him forgetting himself. His hands grabbed the cowboy’s head, strong fingers sinking into chestnut brown locks to keep the man in place.

 

Hanzo’s body arched under the other’s weight, heavy limbs keeping him pinned, there was no escape from pleasure. He heard himself moaning louder and louder as Jesse slotted himself between the archer’s thighs and started rocking them together in a slow, torturous rhythm.

 

The gunslinger’s lips found his neck again, his breath hot on the sensitive skin.    
“You feel so good in my arms darlin’, so responsive. Hn… Like you were made for me. Made for my pleasure. Right, darlin’?” not wanting an answer, Jesse simply kissed him, stealing the breath from Hanzo. Those strong fingers wrapped around his neck for a second, sending a jolt of white-hot, buzzing arousal through his body. They talked about this, but the cowboy never brought it up, until now. 

 

“Now- now I’m gonna mark you up nice and pretty.” Jesse rumbled as he stopped kissing Hanzo, his breath against the archer’s ear. “Tomorrow, everyone will see you are mine. Would ya like that, darlin’?” the fingers tightened on his neck, before leaving to wrap around their arousal - and that was another button for Hanzo, Jesse having such big hands…

 

Jesse’s mouth was back on his neck and he bit down as his hips finally picked up the pace. Hanzo couldn’t keep his voice down, even if his life depended on it. There was too much sensation, the teeth on his flesh, Jesse’s grip on them, the movement of his body… 

His yell echoed in the room, almost suppressing the gunslinger’s own growl and for few heartbeats the world disappeared.

  
  


Hanzo blearily opened his eyes - not remembering when he closed them - to find Jesse sprawled over him, the messy, dark brown locks tickling his chest. He lifted a still tingling hand and buried his fingers into the inviting softness of them. The cowboy shifted a little, lifting his head and kissed Hanzo, making him moan at the small silver jewelry’s touch.

 

“Ya really like that, darlin’.” the deep voice rumbled against his lips, Hanzo only could blush and grin in reply.


	11. Lost Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The gang member was dead in a heartbeat, blood, bone fragments and brain matter painting the steel crates red. Jesse took a breath and almost holstered his gun when he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Four men run into clearing, pulse rifles in their hands, but it didn’t matter. There was a flash of dark blue behind the trees and the cowboy froze. The shade of it achingly, infuriatingly familiar…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [Five Finger Death Punch - Let This Go](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_fRfMxPZVc)
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: violence, blood, gore, killing
> 
>  
> 
> I wasn't in a good mood when I started writing this.

Jesse growled deep from his throat, as bullets thudded into the stone wall at his back. His right hand gripped Peacekeeper a little tighter then with a grin on his face, he lunged from behind the wall and fanned the gun’s hammer. Four of the gang members died instantly, the back of their heads exploding, one got shot in the throat and one lucky son a bitch ducked in time, avoiding his own headshot. 

 

The cowboy’s growl took an even deeper register at the mistake. He willed his body into a ink black fog and got around the crates in the back of the clearing, where man was hiding. Peacekeeper materialized first and moved before the guy could see him, the chambers full again. 

 

The gang member was dead in a heartbeat, blood, bone fragments and brain matter painting the steel crates red. Jesse took a breath and almost holstered his gun when he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Four men run into clearing, pulse rifles in their hands, but it didn’t matter. There was a flash of dark blue behind the trees and the cowboy froze. The shade of it achingly, infuriatingly familiar…

  
  


With a snarl, he turned, Peacekeeper barking up in his hand, the men dead after a step. He didn’t waste time running, simply willed himself away, in the direction of the runner. Bloodlust singing in his veins, he could feel himself grinning, his teeth lengthening just a bit, but it didn’t matter. He was on a hunt.

 

It didn’t take long to find the man, hiding behind a boulder, comm unit in his hands, whispering into in heavily accented Spanish. Jesse just stopped in the shadow of the trees, listening to the man’s panicked blabbing about a wraith with the face of a dead man in black, begging for reinforcements. The answer was not ideal for the man, because he threw the comm unit away with a curse and pulled a small pulse pistol from his shoulder holster. Yeah, it took an hour for the cavalry to arrive, but he didn’t seem to give up without a fight.

 

The cowboy almost laughed out loud, like that piece of shit weapon could hurt him. Like that piece of shit waste of space could  _ kill _ him. He stepped out of the shadows, the barrel of Peacekeeper glinting coldly, tendrils of black seeping from it. The man’s greasy rat like face contorted into fear as he ducked back behind the boulder, forgetting that he had weapon - a useless one, but still.

 

Jesse walked around the stone with slow, measured steps, weapon raised. He learned intimidation from the best, that’s why he let his grin grew a little wider than it was humanly possible.

 

The man - Jesse heard his name, but couldn’t bother to remember it - huddled next to the boulder, shaking hands holding the pistol. The dark blue jacket he wore was ill-fitting on his bony shoulders, the sleeves tattered a little and of course it wasn’t  _ that _ shade, just close enough…

 

The cowboy looked down, lowering Peacekeeper to aim at the man’s head. Terrified brown eyes looked up at him, as the man started blabbing, promising money, weapons, drugs, whores and information  _ just let him live, please. _ Jesse cocked his to the right, then heaved a sigh, interrupting the man.

 

“Silence.” 

 

The man shut his mouth with a small click of teeth, swallowing heavily. 

 

Peacekeeper’s sound echoed around Jesse, the boulder painted red with blood and brain. The cowboy hated people like this one, trying to bribe their way out of death, promising easily lives of others.

 

He left the cooling body on the ground and headed back into the camp, looking for information. He knew from whispers, they had a bigger camp with women and girls somewhere nearby and that was his first priority.

 

He found an old laptop in one of the tents and sent an e-mail about two other camps running drugs and weapons to a secure address. He was sure Gabriel would come and ‘help’. Maybe  _ he _ would come along with the team… 

 

And Jesse hoped to Hell, they would never meet in a battle, because sometimes his bloodlust got a grip on him. Just a glimpse could be enough to wake something hurting, bitter and dark in him…

 

It would be a shame, if he killed Hanzo Shimada.


End file.
